Southern Exposure

Chapter One-2

“Let’s get one thing very clear, Ms. Elliot,” Sean finally chimed in. “You come along, as you’re determined to do, you follow orders.”

“Orders? This isn’t the military.”

“Yes, but there’s valuable University money being spent here, and I’m responsible to see it’s not wasted. Your project is as subject to my scrutiny as any of the others that will be conducted on the islands. I have a responsibility to keep everything running smoothly, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Is that clear?”

“Yes. Absolutely,” she replied. She didn’t like the way that sounded, but her only thought now was to escape the room so she could get her head back on straight. “Well then,” she cleared her throat, sat up a little more primly in the chair, “I guess this meeting has done little toward my goal of creating an amiable working climate, but at least we know where we’re coming from.”

“That we do,” Sean agreed.

“The date for our departure is still the 29th?” she queried.

“Yes, it is. There will be a planning meeting two weeks before. I’ll email the time and expect you there. I assume you’ve already had your shots?”

“Yes, I’ve taken care of everything in your memo.”

“Well, then, I suppose we have nothing further to discuss.”

“I guess not.”

There was little wind in Lauren Elliot’s sails as she left Sean McDonough’s office. If she was destined to war with the man, she’d lost the first battle. And they both knew who won. What rattled her most, however, was that damned paddle, and his intention to use it to punish his ex-wife.

***

The Biology Annex seemed to settle peacefully once Lauren Elliot left. Though the lovely brunette did leave quite an impression on Sean McDonough—one that made him sit back for several minutes and keep the picture of her fresh in his mind. He had a sixth sense about women with such sass and daring. They were prime candidates for spanking by their very nature, and were delightful challenges for him to tame. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having her along on his expedition if he could count on eventually spanking her ass. But then, taking her to such lengths was not something he could assume. More likely than not, she’d turn out to be the bother he expected any woman to be—disturbing his peaceful respite away from civilization with a host of annoying and distinctly female concerns. He had only to recall his past experience to dread her presence on the team. And the islands—how would they handle another high-strung, strong-willed woman. He might as well be courting disaster. Hopefully, his lust wasn’t getting in the way of his better judgment. Still, he had little choice but to accept the inevitable and hope for the best.

Lost in his thoughts Sean was surprised out of his reverie for a second time that day by another knock on his office door. However, this time he didn’t need to answer, for the door opened without an invitation and his ex-wife, Christina, swept into the office.

“Oh, how are you, my sweet?” she said, moving briskly to his side and planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek as her arms wrapped around his neck.

He pushed her away. “I’m just fine, brat, now behave yourself and take a seat.”

“Ooo, you’re a little testy today?” she murmured.

“I’m always testy,” he commented drolly.

Christina sashayed her full round butt around the desk and dropped it into the chair Lauren Elliot had recently warmed. The bright-hearted woman had a bounteous body, and a face full of charm, which was surrounded by a halo of naturally curly ash-blonde hair. There was a gentle radiance about her, though even at nearly thirty years old there was a childish quality to her appearance—and a good deal of s****l tease. Christina was always licking her boldly painted lips, and her droopy eyes often suggested she was ready for s*x—which she usually was.

“So, what’s brought you here today, Christy?”

“Michael told me to get my bottom paddled.” Michael was her latest lover, nice guy, but he was no match for Christina Gleason-McDonough when she was out of control. Alcohol, spendthrift shopping, wild parties and occasional drug binges were typical obsessions that created messy moments with the men who loved her. Michael, discovering that her ex-husband was still more than willing to discipline the wayward vixen, sent her to him the instant he saw one of her crazes about to hit. The methodology kept their relationship alive for nearly two years—Christina’s longest except for the two and half years she spent with Sean.

“And why this time?” he asked.

“Ummmm,” she scrunched up her nose like a little kid. “What if we just forget the reason and you get on with punishing me?”

“No, you’re going to tell me everything like you usually do.”

“Well,” she was hedging. This must be a real doosey, Sean thought. She batted her long eyelashes like a cute coquette and pursed her lips into a pout.

“Christina, you want me to spank it from you before I start the punishment?”

“Oh, no!”

He waited, annoyed with the delay.

She took a deep breath and then suddenly spit it out all at once in the abbreviated version, “I got drunk last night, mad at Michael, left the house, climbed in the car, and was halfway down the street before he finally got me to stop.” She c****d her head waiting for her ex to respond.

He shook his head disgusted, and as the news settled in, she could see him breathing a little harder with his ire aroused. This ritual repeated itself all too frequently to suit him. Although he had a decided passion for spanking women, his ex-wife was too often a danger to herself and other people.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” she said, as she felt his silent anger brew with each second that ticked by. The quiet descending around them was exhilarating, if not a little scary.

“You know I should throttle you as soon as spank you,” Sean finally retorted.

Ooo, he was aroused, she was thinking. And she so loved the look of him when she was on the verge of getting spanked.

“Better yet, you belong in jail.”

“Oh, it’s not that serious.” She looked alarmed.

“It’s damn serious, Christina, when you take off in a car drunk. It’s a felony. You could kill yourself or someone else. And you act as if it’s not a big deal.” He rose from his chair, eyes glaring.

“I wasn’t really going anywhere,” she tried to explain.

“You were reckless, self-indulgent, stupid and totally thoughtless,” he shot back. He was around the side of his desk in seconds, “Now, get up.”

The fire in him burned hot, as hotly as it burned in her—though it was of a different sort. She shrunk back in her chair suddenly so scared that she could hardly move. Though, once she did, she moved fast, pulled to her feet by Sean’s swift jerk of her arm. He brusquely flung her over the end of his desk, and raising her short skirt, he began paddling her derriere with the wood school paddle.

“Ouch! That hurts!” she blared.

He wasn’t stopping. He peppered her behind until it stung like fire—these first smacks over top of her panties might as well have been on her naked behind they burned so badly.

“Damn it, Sean! Can’t you let up?” she stamped her feet and wrenched to one side, which only made the paddle strike her nastily on the side of her left ass cheek. “Ouch!”

Abruptly changing tactics, Sean pulled the brat to her feet. He took a quick swipe at her panties, exposing her pink bottom, then smacked her with the palm of his hand. “Listen to me, Christine, you come to me because you need this, and I’m going to give it to you hard. Don’t tell me you can’t stand it. Don’t b***h and don’t complain. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered meekly, his message cutting through her complaints like a knife through butter.

“Now bend over.”

Christina haltingly obeyed. Her ass was already hot enough for her to enjoy the spreading warmth, but her enjoyment would only be short-lived. Sean had the paddle in his hand again and was drawing back his muscled arm. A good two dozen firm strikes proceeded at a methodical clip. He alternated cheeks and placement making certain that the luscious expanse of her two fleshy orbs was a flaming red by the time he finally finished.

She was ready to jump up the moment he laid the paddle on the desk, but he pushed her back in place.

“Today, you’re getting the cane,” he said.

“No, Sean!” she whined. “I hate the cane.”

“Yes, I know. Maybe it will make a more lasting impression.”

She squinted as though she was scared to death, but she didn’t make a move to get away. Watching him, she could see the sheer determination in his expression—he was really mad this time, not just fuming a little over some small err in judgment. As he pulled the dreaded bamboo from his coat closet, she shuddered from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes.

“Oh, gawd, I hate this,” she lamented.

“And, I’m really glad,” he said as his eyes widened deviously just to terrorize her more. “Maybe, you’ll get the message this time.” He stepped back behind her, gripped the cane tightly, and whisked the implement through the air letting it land dead center on her hot pink cheeks.

Thwack!

“Yikes!” she jumped up and danced for several seconds, then returned to the pose.

“Stay still!” he ordered, and she clung to the sides of the desk so hard her knuckles went white. She gritted her teeth and waited for the next cut.

Swoosh! Thwack!

“Ooooo, nooooooooo.”

Sean rattled off several more and her cries rose as nasty wails. She shuddered and stamped her feet but remained in place until there were twelve hot searing lines of red emerging on the bright surface of her ass.

“Now, sit down,” he ordered as he put the cane and paddle away. “On your naked ass,” he added for good measure.

She obeyed, “Damn, this hurts.”

“Good. And I hope it hurts for days. You’ve got to grow up, Christina. You’ve got to stop drinking and doing drugs…” he shook his head.

“I know,” she said with a sad little pout. She started to grin just slightly, staring her ex-husband in the eye, and then said, dreamily, “you ever wonder if we should get back together? I mean we…”

“No, Christy, that would be a disaster I wouldn’t wish on either one of us. You stick with Michael, and I’ll do the spanking—at least for a while. But, you’re going to have to shape up soon because I’m not going to be around to take care of things much longer.”

“Oh, why not?” she looked concerned. “You’re not going away again, are you?”

“In a month, to a South Pacific Island.”

“And what’s going to happen when I’m naughty?” Her playful grin was charmingly childish.

“You’re going to behave yourself, or Michael’s going to have to spank you himself. Actually, that would be a very good idea and a relief for me.”

“I thought you liked this arrangement?”

“You’re nearly thirty, Christy. Time you grew up. Get spanked for fun, but quit doing things to get spanked for. Now get out of here before I give you another twelve with the cane.”

“Guess you’ll like not having any women around to annoy you,” she said as she rose to leave.

“That would be nice,” he droned unhappily, immediately thinking of Lauren Elliot.

His tone piqued Christina’s interest. “Oh? You mean you’re going to break your longstanding policy against women on your crew?”

“University politics, I didn’t have any choice.”

“And does she know about you? I mean your rather antiquated ideas about male/female relationships?”

“Yes. In fact she does.”

“Oh, then, your trip won’t be such a bore, if you’ll be spanking her too.” She seemed intrigued by the thought.

“If she gives me any grief, I will. Now get going, I’ve got work to do. And be sure you let Michael see the cuts. Oh, and have him see me before I leave. If he’ll punish you himself while I’m gone, I’ll gladly lend him my cane.”

The idea sent a shiver of fear through the saucy blond and Christina scampered out the room almost before her skirt went down over her naked behind. Sean did have a way with her, no other man did. Despite the lingering throb from the biting cane, there was definitely a river of pleasure running through her aroused body. She couldn’t wait to get home and show Michael the results of the session.